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Looking through the online Ikea catalog because I’m thinking about what to do about the kitchen. I think anytime I redo a kitchen or a bathroom from now on I will tile it from ceiling to tile floor.

And then I turned to the food section and saw salmon with hollandaise sauce and realized that the last time I had hollandaise sauce was when I made it with Daddy during their August 10 to 14 (?) visit in 2013. I’m sitting here looking at a cedar in my back door neighbor’s yard. I remember when it was planted. I’m lost in the past except for my promise to Gerard Butler to get my life back on track and start rock climbing in preparation for completion.

I sit, looking at the cloudy sky, cry and think about pushing Daddy off the porch, about picking a fight with Kevin, pray and ask for forgiveness. “Why Mama? Why did you have to leave? Why did it take your leaving for Chris to act like a Brother, for me to move forward, for me to stop procrastinating?

My Brother the alcoholic pot addict: can’t just not talk with him. That’s childish and dangerous. He beat me up last Summer for not talking to him. I think I’ll do what Chris does: avoid him, but be civil. Kevin is a Loser. He creates so many problems for everyone. No one likes his attitude. In fact no one can stand being around his losing attitude He won’t listen. I wouldn’t listen before Mike left…

Got a phone call last night from Tom Madole. At 11 pm. I hung up and then left the phone off the hook and unplugged the modem while I took a shower. I think he got the hint that he should never call again.

Sacha, where are you? How is your life treating you? Are you happy? Are you moving forward? Growing?

I miss my Mom. It has become clear what a bunch of heartless bastards my “friends” and “family” are. I understand why God allows this: so I will be able to relate to people with the same pain, but still, I just want to curl up in a little ball and cry, which I do an awful lot of.

How could I possibly believe that losing Duffy and Cappy would be harder than losing my Mom? How could I have known that my Brothers would turn into heartless bastards?

Sascha, where you? All I want is a hug: a big bear hug from a big guy so I can cry in your arms… It says in the Bible that God will give us the desires of our hearts. Last time I got that, he got sick and turned on me. I can’t go through that again, not without Mom. I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than go through that pain without Mom.

Haven’t written for awhile, thought about you a lot, but otherwise done nothing else. Maybe your name isn’t Sascha. Maybe it’s Sandy or Alex or, most formally, Alexander. I wonder if you’re searching for me.

The most important thing is to get out in the real world: meet people again, go to the gym, church (sigh), get on with my life. This town calls itself a mecca of Christianity. It’s not. It has a lot of organizations that are Christian in name, but I’ve never met such a pompous group of hypocrites. Only in this place would there be a uproar about a billboard put up by a group of atheists. The local news had a story about it. It could have spent the time on the need for feeding and clothing the poor, but, no, it had to be about a stupid billboard.

Anyway, I’m thinking about you, praying that your life is going well, that you are prospering, happy.

This man haunts my thoughts. I had a dream, a few weeks before my Mom died. I was sure this man was Christ and I tried and tried to find him: dark brown hair, beard, red plaid shirt. Right before I woke up, I got a hug and it was the happiest I’ve every been, even after I woke up, for days.

I’ve had one dream about him, but he was in his twenties. At the time I was obsessed with the movie ‘Harold and Maude.’ So, that’s where the straight hair came from, but the blue eyes? Daddy? No. Daddy’s eyes, I saw right before he died, are identical to mine.I thought they were blue, blue, blue like Mama’s.

Was that Sascha? I don’t know. I just know I’m obsessed. I’ve tried doing Google searches, but it’s kind of fruitless because how do you look for that man? I briefly tried on a dating site. It was fruitless and I decided I wouldn’t do THAT again.

So, I started thinking about getting out into the real world again. And I began to think about a plan to get in shape and clean up the house and get back on a daytime schedule. But I knew that if I just started, I’d quit. I didn’t really set a date. I talked, well wrote, with Marci (Nemtzow) and Paul (Moriarty). I talked about diet and exercise.

I thought about strength training and Spartan races and somehow got obsessed with the actor Gerard Butler in ‘Phantom of the Opera’. And so I started thinking about Scottish men as he described them. Large: big hands, wide shoulders, deep voices. And then I became obsessed with the man, but tried really really hard not to get a crush on him because that is just fruitless.

So, I decided to write about him. And this is day one. I figure, can’t hurt. Maybe he’ll find me? Maybe he’s been thinking about a girl named Tania or Tati, or Tatiana…

I need to write. I know that. And I can go on for hours in a email. But put a blank screen in front of me and say, “WRITE!” and I go blank. When I was in the Army, I started to write a story, but I didn’t get very far. I was trying to write a sort of autobiography.

I tried to write a blog about being a Christian girl in a BDSM world. ROFL. My two years of stupidity. I was peri-menopausal and horny. And STUPID. I was lucky to escape with my health and life intact.

For the last 21 years I have wasted my time. My counselor says, “No, you went through what God WANTED you to go through.

I remember begging God to tell me what he wanted me to do with my life. He was VERY quiet about it. I wasn’t praying enough or paying enough attention, I suppose, or maybe not spending enough time talking with Him, okay in prayer.

I found listening to people meaningful for decades. The result of my tests senior year of high school showed PT. I didn’t think I could handle the memorization of anatomy… I gave up before I started and studied something much more difficult. Chemistry.

Why not Psychology? At Oberlin, the reserve readings they had to do intimidated me. And I could only do chemistry under the effects of adrenaline.

So many wasted years.

And now here I am, a fucking millionaire and alone… I miss my Mom. Normally, I’d go see here in less than a month… My heart hurts.

So, I’m watching the 2004 film rendition of Phantom of the Opera, just because Gerard Butler’s character of the Phantom and I have so much in common.

Wanted to weed and plant in garden. Fell asleep around 4 am and woke at 11am. Didn’t want to get up. Read a little, fell back asleep. Woke up at 1 pm. Read, decided to sleep for “5 more minutes”, woke up at 4pm to what I thought was the smell of burnt toast and and thought, “Ralph, what have you done now?”

I got up, did my ablutions. Weight 197.

Went downstairs, fed animals and self (decaf, strawberry chobani, lucerne salted caramel). Looked for email (Chris and Helen regarding the estate) and felt too scared to go outside and do weeding on a sunny day after 2 days of rain. Turned on movie I rented last night on Comcast (50 Shades of Grey-unedited). Ate, dishes, made bed, let Nicholas out (I have decided when he goes out the first time he either goes to the bathroom or does reconnaissance) did some dishes and some paperwork.

I want a routine, so I decided that maybe this will help along with the Army’s moodtracker. Maddie looked sad, so I got dressed, did some more dishes and wrote in you. Right now she is whining. It is about 7 pm and dark; it wasn’t dark when I went to get dressed.

Nicholas is whining to go out. I’m afraid to let him out. I’m afraid some stupid kid will hurt him. I want to fix the fence and be able to let the kids outside without fear.

Time to go for a walk. Paperwork, dishes, laundry, vacuuming, litterboxes, brush kids, and cleaning carpet tonight? Two things I really want to get done: paperwork and carpet cleaning.

I want to get it done so I’m not ashamed of this house. The dog park is getting decorated!

In the next 6 months I will continue the routine set up in the first three months. This means rising, getting dressed, feeding me, feeding the animals, dishes, laundry, empty a box of stuff, work on OT school applications, work on volunteering, going to church, working on my car, cleaning out my house and yard,studying the Bible and making friends.

It will also mean slowly but surely adding friends to my life and actually going out and doing things with them. It will mean continuing my ASL studies. And somewhere in there, finding a new hobby that involves serious physical exercise.

Rock climbing. Alex Honnald is the best free climber in the world. Climbing without ropes is dangerous, but I would like to have the strength to climb to the top of Kissing Camels in Garden of the Gods with ropes.

It will mean going on progressively longer hikes with my dogs first on Fort Carson and then up in the mountains. I’d also like to start walking Nicholas, my oldest cat. He is overweight. I would put him on a leash, pick him up, and take him out the door. I would then slowly follow him as he makes his way down the driveway to the sidewalk, across the street and into the field.

In the next three months I plan to continue the routine I establish in the next month. This will mean emptying all the boxes sitting in my house, finishing my ASL class and putting together a budget for my Father the narcissist. Having emptied all the boxes sitting in my house I will begin emptying the boxes in my basement. Prior to doing this I will need to clean the floor of the basement.

So, if I break it down, I will do a box a day of sorting. One box. (I’ve been able to do one load of laundry and one load of dishes and feed five animals.) This means opening the box, and deciding if it’s stuff I want to give away, throw away keep or paper (throw away/keep). I have several flats from Costco that I can sort paper into. Once I have sorted into recycle/shred/file, I will shred. Filing a flat per day is a separate task.

Cleaning the house involves decluttering. Having things in boxes that are stacked clears a room and then I can choose a box and begin to sort. I just have to get up, do the daily feed (animals, self) and clean (laundry and dishes) routine and then add sorting to my routine. I need to add special tasks to my routine like: gardening and school and volunteering and applying to OT school and there are appointments (dental, psychiatrist, counseling) and meetings (worship on Sundays, prayer on Wednesdays). After three months, I will be much more accustomed to work and rest on a regular schedule than I am now.

In the next month I plan to stay up to date with laundry, paper, dirty dishes and vacuuming and finish gardening for the year. Finishing gardening means cutting down all the weeds to no more than 6 inches tall in both the front and back yard, moving contents of the compost piles into the front yard to make the entire yard level and trimming extra growth and dead wood. I also have to cut down half a tree.

I have promised a friend that I will start emptying boxes. This means I have to throw away, give away or sell ‘stuff’ and file or throw away paper. Why? Because I don’t sort my mail when I’m depressed. I toss it in a box. I have at least 50 boxes of ‘stuff’ (belongings I never use) and/or paper in my house.

If you were to walk into my house you would be overcome by the smell of cat and dog. Why? Because I have three cats and I don’t always keep up with the litter box cleaning and I have two dogs, one of whom is deaf and not house broken. Then you would see three boxes of stuff and a piano with vases of dried flowers. Underneath six baskets of folded laundry is a plaid couch. Next to shelving with VHS tapes, books, pottery and spider webs, is a couch covered by moving blankets. An air conditioner underneath a broken shade and many ceramic containers filled with dog treats sits on top of a credenza. A four drawer filing cabinet sits next to 3 bar stools and is topped by lots of stuff animals. My house reflects the chaos in my head.

There will be ASL classes on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, one or two counseling sessions each week, church on Sundays and maybe midweek meetings at church. This is an attempt on my part to establish a consistent routine, please my narcissistic Father (he has narcissistic personality disorder), network and make new friends.